Monster
by J. Cassia-Rendthal
Summary: It hurt. It hurt so bad that all she wanted to do was curl up and cry until she slept - it hurt that she still loved him, despite the lies. She hated that she couldn't hate him. And she hated that none of it, no matter how hard she tried to convince herself otherwise, had ever been real. But that's just what you get, right? When you fall in love?
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: I do not own Divergent, its characters or anything to do with it._

 _'And I'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred words, in any version of reality, I'd find you and I'd choose you.' ~ The Chaos of Stars_

There was something about high school that no one could quite put their finger on. It wasn't the steadily growing maturity that most students went through, nor the excitement of making your new best friends. Maybe it was the emotional story of finding your first ever love, although, maybe not. However that is where we lay our scene, in the finding of true love, derived from entirelly wrong circumstances.

Tris Prior was without a doubt the most unaproachable, negative, and downright bitchiest girl to attend Chicago City High School. Or so she was viewed by her peers. Some went as far as to calling her a 'slut' or a 'whore', two nicknames that you can rest assured did not apply to her in the slightest. Those with a more diverse vocabulary talked loudly and abrasively about her 'sanctimonious' attitude, or her 'fanatical' behaviour. These people, despite their harsh and overly critical words were those who mattered at the time, as of course, it seemed to the entire student body.

You can probably guess that these comments were said for a reason, which is true. But that remains a story yet untold by Miss Prior.

As she breathed out into the cold winter morning, Tris Prior smiled to herself. Winter had always been her favourite season – not only because of the winter holidays that lasted almost a month, but the memories of playing in the snow with her older brother, Caleb. Despite only being a year older, Caleb had been very protective of Tris, making sure to give her his warmest and biggest jumper after being out in the snow all day, or making her hot chocolate with extra marshmallows. Though that had been years ago, Tris remembered those times fondly.

In a few more minutes she would arrive at her destination, namely, school. School was not a fun experience for her, although she pushed through her day by telling herself that in the grand scheme of things, this year was not the most important. No, it wasn't as if Tris had her whole life planned out ahead of her. She was just as clueless about the world and what lay behind the shining gates of graduation as any other sixteen year old.

Walking into the warmth of the school building Tris sighed out heavily. The day had now offically begun, and she was waiting for the first insult to be flung her way. One insult always triggered a chain reaction of others, getting everyone involved. Well, everyone excpet _Four._

'Four' was the name adopted by the school's 'bad boy'. School legends told that he was so named because he spent four years in juvenile detention, although that was yet to be proved. Four generally didn't participate in school things, only passing his classes when he felt it was needed and ignoring almost every person that existed. To be honest, people were terrified of Four. It was just a given that whenever a new pupil arrived at the school they would be warned not to approach him, or else face certain demise.

Tris _was_ scared of Four. But she didn't feel like she needed to be. Four didn't partake in the mockery she faced daily, and she knew that if he wanted to be a part of it he would be the atomic bomb of the opposing side. If Four wanted to take someone down, he would do it. So Tris knew that if Four were a threat to her, he would have already acted.

Walking to her first class, Tris noticed multiple glares being thrown her way. Of course, she was completely careless of most of them, but when someone shouted out 'slut!' (or other, similar words) she couldn't help but laugh a little. Tris only had had one boyfriend in the entirety of her life, and they hadn't even kissed, let alone gone as far as the nicknames suggested. And if Tris thought about it really carefully... she had only really gone out with Peter because everyone else was going on dates. It was the cool thing to do. So calling her a slut first of all was not true, and second of all, probably was more linked to the person saying it, not Tris herself. It was a bit stupid really, people making assumptions about Tris although they had never spoken, yet, Tris didn't really blame them. It wasn't like when she had arrived at this school that she had given them a lot to go on – the only person she had talked to was Peter, and she didn't tell him much either. So when they had broken up Peter had obviously shared every detail she had told him, not that there was much excitement there, with his friends. So, without much information to go on, people had made up their own gossip.

Reaching her classroom, Tris let the bag that was slung over her shoulder drop to the inside of her elbow, then pulled it up to her chest,, as if it were a sheild from the rest of the class. Although she didn't want to admit it, sometimes the comments flung her way did hurt, if they hit home. Occasionally people shouted out something about her mother, and it was all Tris could do not to fling round and punch them in the face.

Thankful that the teacher wasn't here yet and that most of the class appeared to be absent, Tris let her heavy schoolbag crash onto her desk. She flopped down into her chair, tired from having to heave her bag the whole three miles to school. Her dad rarely used the car, even in this freezing weather. Lifting her head, Tris gazed at the rest of the class.

The classroom was probably the most well taken care of classroom in the entire school. Her overly enthusiastic teacher, Mr Ernit, was also probably the most exciteable _teacher_ in the entire school. The classroom was actually painted bright orange, a colour that Tris now hated with a passion, and mutiple posters adorned the wall, each depicting a passage of 'Macbeth', or 'Hamlet'. During her time in this class Tris had managed to learn the words on each poster by heart, word for word. It was definitely more interesting than the connotations of a word used in the latest newspapaer article Mr Ernit had them analysing.

Tris turned her head to the side slightly when she noticed someone slide into the seat next to her. It was Will, of course.

"Did you hear that Peter got into a fight with Drew?" He asked in a hushed voice. As he leaned over the isle in excitement, his glasses slid slightly down his nose and his floppy blonde hair covered his eye a bit. He had lots of freckles scattered across his face, which Tris thought was rather cute. But only in a brother-sister kind of way. Anyway, it was very clear that Will had a crush on Christina, one of the popular girls in their school. He hadn't yet had the chance to talk to her.

"About what?" Tris asked lazily, turning her gaze back to the whiteboard at the front of the class. It said the usual – 'Open your jotter and look at all of last lesson's notes. Write a few sentences about what you learned, and what you found interesting. Please do this quietly.' This was her teachers way of getting students to study more, and Tris couldn't say it was working. No one had really done it since the first few lessons, but Tris believed that Mr Ernit sill put it up in the hopes that at least someone would do it.

"Well..." Will started causciously, "Don't get mad..."

Confused, Tris looked at Will once more. He seemed more than a bit worried, and that had Tris worried. If something concering Peter had Will anxious, it probably wasn't anything good.

"It was about you," Will continued.

Panicked instantly, Tris sat up straight. Countless thoughts ran through her mind, each one bringing different horrible images and theories that might be the reason that she would be a cause for dispute between the school's cruelest duo. She knew why Peter didn't like her – she had been the one to end it between them, when he had obviously still been attached – but she didn't see why, two years later, that he couldn't just give it up. For a while now all that linked the two was the insults from him and the acceptance from her, so she couldn't see why it had suddenly picked up again.

" _What?!"_ Tris demanded, her fear evident in her voice.

"I don't know- Tris, wait, where are you going?!" Will called, helplessly as Tris stood from her seat, pulled her bag over her shoulder and swiftly started walking towards the door. If there was something big happening, she didn't want to be in class for it. Besides, she knew Will would cover for her.

All she needed to do was clear her head, so she walked herself out to the stands around the football pitch. It was the best place to sit, as on a Monday morning like this everybody was doing P.E inside in the warm sports hall. So she was completely alone.

Or so she thought – on the other side of the pitch, obviously skipping class like her and having the same idea about where to go, was Peter. He hadn't seen her yet, but he wasn't without company. It seemed like he hadn't yet made up with Drew, as he was no where in sight, but he had Molly, and Eric. And they seemed deeply engrossed in conversation.

Curious, Tris stood up slowly, as not to attract their attention, and started walking in their direction. They were talking quite loudly, so she didn't need to get too close to hear.

On any other day, Tris wouldn't have cared what Peter was saying. But now, in her discovery that he had been talking about his this morning, she felt like she had to know. She blamed her brother for her endless curiosity – he was the main reporter for the school newspaper and was constantly encouraging her to question everything further, dig deeper for the real story. And that was what Tris was doing right now.

"Dude – it's been years!" She heard Eric shout.

"Yeah, but I had this idea-" Peter said loudly, but then probably remembering that he was on school grounds lowered his voice so that Tris couldn't hear anymore. Frowning to herself, Tris didn't have the will to find out more. And the closer she got the more likely it was that they would hear her. So she turned tail and left.

...

Tris had agreed to meet Will in the library for lunch. Normally, no pupil would be allowed to eat or drink in there, but Tris had gotten to know the librarian quite well, who was willing to make exceptions for her favourite students. This teacher's bias was a win for Tris, as otherwise she would have to eat lunch in the cafeteria where she would mocked by her fellow pupils.

As she hurried to meet her friend, she didn't pay attention to where she was going in the almost empty corridors and ran, face first, into something rock solid. She fell to the ground, her heavy bag falling on her stomach and extracting a loud _'oof!'_ from her. Dazed, she looked up at what she had ran into.

Turned out it wasn't a what – it was a who.

As luck would have it, of course she would be the one who ran into Four.

As he looked down at her Tris coulnd't help but notice everything she hadn't had a chance to before now. He was very tall, at least six foot and the clothes he wore only added to his fear factor – the black t-shirt made his muscles very prominent. They weren't the kind of muscles that would put a body builder to shame, no, but the kind that came from working out regularly – lean and strong. He wore a disgruntled expression, his dark blue eyes looking at her with what appeared to be dissaproval, his lips drawn into a thin line.

She kept staring at him, rather in fear than in awe, wondering what he would do next. Would he leave? Would he shout? Would he... would he hurt her? Although his appearance suggested otherwise Tris didn't feel like he was going to hit her. If she was honest with herself she felt that if he was going to do anything bad the worst would be that he would shout. For some reason, the fact that Four didn't take part in the verbal beatings Tris got regularly at school she felt that he was agaisnt doing something like that.

Although that was more than likely to be her fiction-addiction shining through.

Four stared at her for sometime. The brave part inside her forced her to hold his gaze, although this was their first ever contact. Her heat was hammering against her chest as she waited anxiously for him to make his move.

Thankfully, Four didn't do anything. He just left, and when he did, Tris exhaled loudly. She didn't even realize she had been holding her breath. Turning to watch him leave before she dared pick herself up off the floor, she allowed her mind to wonder about him. Why was it that he walked like he was constantly on edge? Was it true that he had spent four years in juvenile detention and therefore was prepared to fight at any given moment? Was that why his movements were so fluid – thought through and smooth? He looked like he was ready to fight whatever threat came at him at whatever time, as he was constantly on his guard. It was weird, to say the least.

It was about five minutes before she realized that she was still on the floor in the school corridor, propped up in a sitting position by her arms and her bag lying on her lap. Frowing, she thought that it was rather rude that Four hadn't helped her up, seeing as he was part of the reason that she fell down in the first place. She pushed herself up off her arms and brought her legs round to the side of her, standing up slowly and shakily.

Scurrying off to the library, she held thoughts of Four and his mysterious demeanor in her mind, even as she greeted Will and they sat and ate.

...

It was towards the end of the day when Four was approached by Peter. He had been on his own, leaning agaisnt one of the walls outside the school. Four didn't really like Peter. He seemed like a bit of a dick, really. It was him that always started the bullying in the school, although he normally moved on after a while. It looked to Four like he was still tormenting that Prior girl. And Four absolutely despised those who preyed on the weak.

Peter didn't just act like a dick, he also looked like one. His expensive clothing looked brand new, even after he had worn it for a while, and the way he held himself showed that he thought he was superior to everyone else. His hair was gelled back in a way that Four thought was the most sleezy and stupid look ever, and -

"Four!" Peter called out. Not bothering to hide his disgust at being spoken to by Peter, Four turned towards him with a sneer on his face. Peter immediately lost his cocky look under Four's stern glare, as did most people who came anywhere near him. It was common knowledge that Peter was more than a little scared of Four.

"Hi, er, Four! How you doing?" Peter asked. His voice was shakey, and inwardly Four humored the sudden change in tactics. Although, he had to admit. Peter had nerve. So far, he was the only person who dared to make contact with Four today, other than Prior. Although that obviously hadn't been intentional.

"What do you want, Peter?" Four asked.

Gulping, Peter continued.

"I won't beat around the bush. You see, I used to date this girl-" Four cut him off with a mocking laugh.

"I lose count. You have to be more specific,"

Irritably, Peter frowned. "I was getting to that bit," he huffed. "Tris. Tris Prior. I need you to do something for me."

Four raised his eyebrows. Not only did Peter have the bravery to approach Four, but he also had the arrogance to ask a favour.

And also, what was the deal with this Prior girl? He had heard Peter arguing with one of his 'friends' about her this morning, and now he wanted Four to do a favour concerning her. Four knew that they had dated a while back, although he also knew that they broke up shortly after they became an item. He thought Peter would be long over it by now.

"Well I came up with this plan, just to make her go through what I went through. And I think you're the best man for the job," Peter said.

Four looked away from Peter to the swarm of people still coming out the school entrance. What exactly was it that Peter wanted him to do? Had he really been that attached to his girlfriend that he was so hurt when she left him, despite them only being together for a really short space of time? Four had to admit, this guy was more pathetic than he first thought.

"So what," Four asked, lowering his already deep voice so no one would hear them. "You were overly attached to this girl and she broke your heart? Get over it, dude, this was years ago."

"Two," Peter corrected. "And I didn't have this plan years ago. And you're definitely the best man for the job – you see, every other guy cares about what people think of them. If they were seen with Tris, that would be their reputation down the drain. Yet, you don't care what people think, do you?" Frowing, Four looked back towards Peter. He honestly didn't approve of where this was going.

"I want you to break her heart. Take her out on a few dates, get to know her... then dump her, cruely," Seeing Four's immediate anger, Peter threw in his last bet. "I _will_ pay you."

Four was shocked. This was not something he would normally do, and he couldn't believe that he was making a deal with who he thought was the world's biggest prick. But if there was money in it for him, what did it really matter if some girl got hurt along the way? Did it really matter if Four took her out on a few dates and then dump her? After all, he needed all the money he could get if he wanted to leave Marcus...

"How much are you offering?"

 _Hey, dudes and dudettes._

 _I hope you liked chapter one! This was more like a half chapter, sort of an introduction. Chapters will get longer the more we progress into the story. So what did you think? What's going to happen? I'm really excited to finally be writing this, I've been anticipating it for a while! Quick note, my computer had malfuctioned and isn't spell correcting anything, so if there's any spelling errors please go easy! Besides that, thank you for reading! The next chaper should be up soon!_


	2. Chapter 2

_'If it scares you, it might be a good thing to try.' ~ Seth Godin_

At the side of the school's football pitch stood Four. He wasn't waiting for anything in particular, or anyone, but he had decided that he needed time to think. He had skipped class, something that wasn't uncommon or strange for him, but this time it felt different. He felt that if he was going to go threw with this, then at least he should put some proper thought into it.

 _Three good reasons,_ he told himself. _Three good reasons that I should do this – and then I will._

Of course, Four found it incredibly weird that only now were his morals making him second guess his choices. He hadn't cared any other time that he had done something wrong – so why would he do so now? Was it because it was a girl? Was he really that sexist?

No, Four knew that it was more than that. This Prior chick had never done him any harm, so why should he hurt her? Just so that he could gain some money? What else was holding him back? Four knew that if he got involved with this he would inevitably get involved with _school,_ something he had sworn he wouldn't. It wasn't the learning part of school that he hated, but the people. Horny teenagers gossiping about who screwed who, or who just got a new girlfriend or boyfriend. It was pathetic, that they had nothing better to do with their time than talk about other people's problems. And that was the part that he despised. So if he decided to take up on Peter's offer, he would without a doubt become someone for people to gossip about.

No one had gossiped about Four in some time. He had made sure of that.

But was that really the only reason? That he was scared people would talk about him? If that were true, then Four was no better than them. He knew there was something more to it – but what?

Then it struck him. It wasn't that Prior had never done anything to him. Nor that he was afraid about what people would say. It was the way she had looked at him: in the hallway the previous day, when she had ran into him. She had looked so scared, so small. Like she had been wishing that she was any place other than there at that moment. He could still see the thoughts running across her face – that he was going to hurt her. And he detested it. He felt so sick every time he pictured that fearful look on her face that he wanted – _needed –_ to go break something. And it wasn't just her. When people deliberately avoided Four's gaze because they were afraid of him Four could feel himself turn into Marcus. And there was nothing more that Four hated than that.

But in relation to Marcus... he could escape this. Escape this school, escape him, too. And all it would take would a few weeks of getting to know the Prior girl, then _bam,_ enough money to get him a train ticket out of here. But where would he go? He couldn't go back to _her,_ and he was stupid to even consider the possibility. Marcus would find him in a heartbeat. So where then? If Four was honest with himself, he didn't care. He could live in a cardboard box on the streets and he wouldn't lift a finger in defiance. As long as he got out of that house... then all was good.

 _Three reasons,_ he reminded himself. And there they were, already there for him as if his subconscious had already made the choice for him. He would escape Marcus. The money could get him out of here... which would give him a fresh start. And lastly... he would never have to see Prior's face again after he left her.

Four knew that was all these reasons were completely self-centred and selfish. Hell, he hated that those were the only reasons he could come up with. But as his conscience screamed for him to rethink his actions his mind was made up – if he was going to do it, he would do it tomorrow.

Pushing away from the wall he had been leaning on he pulled his hands out his pockets. So this was it. He was finally making some choices for himself.

…

" _Wait, Dad, there's something on your face!"_

 _Her wet thumb had already collided with her father's cheek before he had any time to react. Forcing himself to smile through his pain, her dad tugged away, not allowing his daughter to wipe away the dirty mark. It was definitely a strange sight, a child caring for her parent in such a way. But that was how it worked in the Prior household – each and everyone of them was codependent on the other._

 _The daughter didn't yet know what her father did. And she certainly would not be laughing if she did._

" _Come on daddy! Mommy won't kiss you if you have dirt on your face!"_

 _A few seconds passed._

" _Daddy? Where's mom?"_

Tears lined the eyes of Tris Prior as she sat up in her bed.

" _Daddy? Where's mom?"_

Restraining a sob, she swung her legs over the side of her bed. It wasn't rare that Tris dreamt this dream, but she hadn't in some time and now the memory was hitting her almost as hard as it did the first time she relived it. Grief hung onto her as she forced herself to stand on her pale, skinny legs and carry herself across the room. No one would guess what had happened to the Priors those many years ago, especially with the way the children acted – like nothing had ever been wrong. No one really saw what was under the well-structured façade that the family wore daily, even around each other. No one really saw how the grief weighed on them.

The reason that the Priors couldn't show emotions around each other was quite simple. Tris was reminded of it all the time that she walked down the same hallway that she was now. Pictures and drawings decorated the wall. They were ones that had been drawn by Tris and Caleb when they had been younger, each trying to outdo the other in who could get the most amount of artwork mounted upon the wall. But the art wasn't the usual kind that kids did.

The one in the middle was the one the struck Tris the hardest. At the time she hadn't really known what was going on, only that Caleb had done one last year and it was her turn now. She had gotten her teacher to help her with the spelling of the two words that was messily written in the middle – _Congratulations, Daddy._

Tris still remembered how her teacher had thought that she was drawing it for her dad's birthday. Yes, the reason she had drawn it had concerned her dad but it had a much more sinister background than just the date of his birth.

While other kids had drawn houses, Tris had drawn their small family – their dad, Caleb and her – celebrating their dad's achievement of being sober for two years now. It was something that she decided no six year old should have had to put up with.

An hour later Tris was ready to go to school. After her dream, she really didn't feel in the mood to be going out anywhere but she didn't want to call in sick, as she would first have to explain to Caleb and her dad as to why she wanted to stay home. Besides, after the nightmare she didn't want to be alone anywhere.

Heading out the front door she threw a careless goodbye over her shoulder to Caleb, who was still eating breakfast. He attended a different school so had a different starting time, one which Tris thought was incredibly unfair. Why should she go to school earlier than her brother?

The walk was cold, to say the least. Many people in her year were already driving, although they weren't technically of age yet. Tris had always wondered how they had had the guts to go through with it. But at times like these, she wished she was one of those people.

Upon arriving at school Tris immediately noticed something was different. Peter _was_ hanging around outside the school as per usual, however today, instead of flinging the usual insult at her he completely ignored her, aside from a small smirk that was cast in her general direction. So what was up? Tris highly doubted that he had given up on picking on her, or that he was too busy with something else. Peter was never too busy to pick on Tris.

But now that Peter hadn't said anything, nor was anyone else. The population of her school seemed to rely on Peter to kickstart the flow of insults, and without him doing so they seemed to just ignore her entirely. Tris would have enjoyed it, had there been no unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach that something big was going to happen.

Half the day went by without any commotion. And half the day went by with Tris worrying herself sick about what was going to happen.

She considered briefly if it concerned Four... after all, she hadn't seen him since she had run into him the hallways. She was still completely mortified about that. She hadn't told Will, fearing that he too would predict her untimely demise. But she had immediately dismissed the idea – no one would be so stupid to try and get Four on their side just to get back at Tris for something that had happened long ago. And anyway, Tris didn't think that Four was like that. He had certainly proved that he wasn't quite as ruthless as his reputation led people to believe, which was good on her part, but then, her run in with him had only been brief. She didn't know the full extent of what he had done to make him seem so terrifying.

Once she got to P.E, Tris was starting to calm down. This was her last subject of the day, and she didn't have Peter, nor any of his followers in this class with her. So there was nothing they could do now, and as long as she made sure to leave promptly at the end of the day there was no way that they could catch her then anyway.

Tris managed to let herself get lost in the sport – handball, something she particularly enjoyed. It was also a bonus that her class weren't complete wimps and weren't afraid whenever the ball was rolled in their direction. That, and the adrenaline rush that she got whenever she played, made for a very good game. She came out of the class happy, mildly bruised, and stinking like a pig.

Her good mood diminished almost completely as she headed into the girls' locker room. Here she had to change and if she were honest... growing up in a house of just guys left her very protective of her personal space. And any minute now the room would be teeming with half-naked girls – every teenage boy's dream. She would hate every minute of it. Just then, a plan formulated in her head. Grabbing her gym bag that contained her clothes and some much needed deodorant, she fled the room, headed for the opposing girl's bathroom. She could just change in a toilet cubicle and no one would know...

 _Oof!_

Taking a step backwards, Tris put a hand to her forehead. She really needed to stop running into people. That was, what, two run-ins in three days? She honestly needed to start looking where she was going.

Raising her gaze to look whoever she ran into in the eye, she groaned internally. Only she would manage to make it Four. Again.

"Hello there, Prior," He said. Shocked, and suddenly very scared, Tris backed away from him. She had been right – Peter had decided to get Four on his side to pick on Tris. How she had let her guard down she didn't know but it certainly hadn't been worth it given her current situation. She didn't know what Four could do that Peter couldn't in a social sense... but physically? She was doomed. Four could grind her to a pulp in seconds. And why? Because Peter couldn't get over the fact that she had been the one to end it. It was years later, anyway, so she didn't know why Peter had gotten Four on his side only now... wait. Up until recently Four had been in 'juvenile detention'. What if Peter had planned to get Four to beat her up this whole time but only now had the chance? She shuddered at the thought. She was completely, and utterly-

"Tris, right?" Four asked. "I'm Four," Speechless, Tris was left gaping at him like a goldfish. What was she meant to say? 'Hi Four? Sorry for running into you the other day but please don't beat the shit out of me'? What good would that do? And would he really beat up her, of all people? She had never done him any harm...

Or maybe he wasn't going to beat her up. Forcing herself to calm, Tris considered this possibility. She had never actually seen Four physically hurt people, it was just generally accepted that at some point he had, and if he needed to, would again. So she didn't really need to fear him, right?

Regaining her ability to speak, Tris squeaked out a few words.

"Hey – uh, Four!"

He chuckled to himself. He had a deep, quiet laugh but it was quite marvellous to see the difference in his face when he wasn't scowling. His eyebrows were quirked upwards and his head was tilted down in a way that Tris could see the light shining through his long eyelashes. His long nose scrunched up slightly and even though Tris knew it wasn't a real laugh, she thought that the transformation was quite significant. She hadn't really seen anything like it before.

More at ease now, but still ready to run, Tris made herself looked relaxed and composed, a look she was well practised in faking.

"You sound scared," Four said. Raising her eyebrows, Tris didn't answer.

A few seconds passed in silence. Then -

"So how you doin'?" Four asked casually. Tris got the impression that he didn't really give a damn about how she was 'doin''. She wrinkled her nose slightly before giving an answer.

"Not bad. Need a bit of a shower though, does it show?"

He seemed to be surprised by her answer. So was she – but she was running on pure adrenaline right now and, although she would no doubt regret it later, let herself speak.

"Not really. Although you really know how to charm a guy, don't you?" He replied.

"As, of course, was my intention."

They held each other's gazes, and Tris tried her best not to look intimidated. Of course, she was. Internally, she was screaming.

She was the one to break the eye contact, looking away uncomfortably.

"So... Tris. How do you feel about meeting up sometime out of school?" Four asked. He had taken to leaning against the lockers at the side of the corridor, his hands shoved in his trouser pockets. His head was tilted back and rested against the locker, but he still had a good view of the short, skinny girl that stood on front of him.

Taken aback, Tris almost missed the opportunity for the comeback on the tip of her tongue. But she quickly recovered.

"Aren't you meant to ask me if it hurt when I fell from heaven first?"

Four took a second to study her before averting his gaze to the people walking at the end of their corridor.

"If they shoe fits," He said. Then, looking back to her, he continued. "That depends. Did it?"

"If you want to compare me to Satan, go ahead," Tris said back. "But don't expect me to answer, and certainly don't expect me to say yes."

Without a second thought, or remembering to change out of her P.E kit, Tris marched herself down the corridor and away from Four. Her mind was going crazy, trying its best to analyse what the hell had just happened and why – whilst the logical side of her started demanding answers for her rash, and very rude answers.

 _What the hell was I thinking?_ She scolded herself. _Could I not just have politely declined? Did I have to take it a step further?_

The thing was, that Tris didn't know why she had said what she had. It was as if she had been possessed, like her voice wasn't her's anymore. Although obviously, it was, and she could have turned around the conversation at any point. So why didn't she? If she felt the need to be so rude to someone, why him? Why did she have to deliberately place herself in the line of fire?

 _And... finished!_

 _First of all, thank you so much for the immediate feedback and love on the last chapter – all your reviews and comments made my day! You guys are too kind!_

 _Another quick note – if there is something in this story that you really want to happen, please, just say. Don't just pray to yourself that it will happen. Of course, it will get angsty later on in the story but between that – don't be afraid to ask. I currently have a rough plan of where the story is going but no set events, so if there really is something you want included please don't be afraid to ask. Also, go easy on me for spelling and grammar. This laptop doesn't do spellcheck, which is really annoying._

 _So, thanks again for reading!_

 _Bye!_


	3. Chapter 3

_'You don't always win your battles, but it's good to know you fought.' ~ Lauren Bacall_

She liked this song.

A while ago, it scared her. She had always been terrified of the eerie lyrics, the beautiful yet sad melody. She hated how when she listened to it with her headphones on on her way to school, she felt as if it were depicting her life. Her steps had always fallen into beat with the tune.

She often cried when she listened to it.

But it wasn't as if she was going to stop listening to this song. She felt as if she would be betraying a friend. It had a sinister pull to it, like a hidden dark figure tugging her further away from the world. She always went willingly. Unable to face her family, she only listened to it on her own. It was her secret friend – her only comfort. The lyrics, despite her fear in their truth, were the only thing that understood her.

Now she loved it. She got over her fear of how open she felt when listening and instead welcomed to haunting tune. She often sang along to the words, although only in the privacy of her bedroom. With what she thought to be no musical talent at all, she had refrained from learning the instrumental part to it. She liked it better that way, though.

Her favourite thing to do was to sit on her bed, her headphones plugged into her phone. She always leaned her head back against the wall, letting the song consume her for a while. The best part, she thought, when when the cello came in for the base. It gave the song a more flowing, yet tragic aspect. She loved how the song went from relatively light to deep, heavy and beautiful. She let the slow melody circle around her head.

This time it was different. She had so much going on in her mind that the song didn't have room. She pictured it going out, like a flame. And she wasn't in her bedroom.

Still distraught at what had happened between her and Four over a week ago she hadn't been able to bring herself to engage in the usual breakfast conversation. Instead, she had left the house early. This was the result.

Standing outside the school, in the cold, waiting for it to open.

It seemed she had fallen back into the way she used to be, hating the way her footsteps fell in with the beat of the song. So she had walked faster. She felt like she was being pitied.

Taking her headphones out, she let her schoolbag fall into the crook of her elbow, then to the ground. She tried to open the zip so that she could put her headphones in, but found her hand was too cramped with the freezing winter temperatures. So she had let them fall around her neck, and her phones found its way to her pocket with her hands, seeking some form of warmth.

She couldn't listen to the song. It struck too much pain. But she still wanted the familiarity. Did she dare? It wasn't like anyone was here to hear her.

" _Hide my head I wanna drown my sorrow, no tomorrow, no tomorrow."_

 _No,_ She scolded herself. She was in public now, she wasn't going to cry.

The truth was, this song brought back so many memories. So many good memories, that became tragically beautiful, like the song. It all fitted too well for her liking. _Her mother..._

Her eyes filling with them, she let a few tears fall. She welcomed the momentary familiarity of the hot, salty water rolling down her pink cheeks.

" _And I find it kind of funny, I find it kind of sad. The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had."_

…

He could see her.

Not her face, but he could see her silhouette standing out against the bright morning sun. And he could hear her.

She had a beautiful voice, to say the least. But that wasn't what he cared about.

What on _earth_ was she singing? Why the hell was she singing that song? Four had hated that song from the first time he had heard it. He hated everything about it – especially the words. He hated the transformation. The last time he had seen her, she had bitched at him in the best way possible. It was hilarious, how Four had been so ignorant to see her as easy prey. He laughed at himself after he had gotten over the initial shock. But now, seeing her – well, _hearing_ her – he actually considered the possibility that he could have been wrong not just once, but twice about Tris Prior.

She wasn't weak, he knew that now. Nor was she a bit of a bitch under her quiet façade. So then what was she like? Maybe he should stop trying to define her.

He could hear the hurt in her voice. The pain. He wondered briefly what she had lost.

 _What_ had _she lost?_

It was in that moment that Four regretted wholeheartedly the way he had treated her when he had last spoken to her a week and a bit ago – even though it wasn't that bad what he had actually said. Four recognized the pain in her voice, he could connect with it. And he had been trying to play her.

Or maybe she hadn't lost something.

She had been bullied for the last few years, hadn't she? Maybe she wasn't coping as well as he had first guessed. It would make sense – the things that were said to her daily he knew could drive someone insane after as long a time as she had put with it for. In which case, Four knew it was entirely wrong to be planning what he was planning. He was just helping Peter along.

 _But he could escape..._

What was he meant to do? Support his morals or support his own health?

It was clear that Tris had a tough school life. Four knew as much. She had years of experience of dealing with harsh words flung carelessly her way, with people chasing her away with their cruelly. Did that make them that different?

At that moment, Tris looked around. And his breath caught in his throat. Surely, he couldn't. He couldn't do what Peter had asked... but he had already started. He had tread on a dangerous path that he couldn't escape from without risking his own safety. But looking at her – seeing her now – Four knew without a doubt that what he was doing was completely, utterly and shamefully wrong.

Her dirty blonde hair hung in loose waves down the side of her face, shielding most of her face from view. But from what Four could see, her rosy cheeks had tears rolling down them.

Hopefully she just liked the song.

…

Why was he walking with her to class? Didn't he have someone to beat up some place or another – or did Four actually attend his classes once in a while?

She hadn't noticed it until the hallways started to clear. Tris had decided a while ago that the best option to avoid Peter in the corridors was to leave class as late as possible, so there would be no one around. She got the feeling that her teachers knew this, which was why they didn't scold her when she was late.

But now that the halls were practically empty, she was much more aware of her surroundings. Especially the tall shadow that was tailing her right now. If Will had been here, then he would have noticed before she did and pointed it out. They would have formulated a plan in which they could catch the unwanted stalker out, then laughed about the stupidity of it. It wasn't like they could ever take any action against people who picked on them.

Will wasn't here, though. He called in, saying he was ill this morning. _Damn winter,_ Tris had thought, _ridding me of my one sense of sanity._

She shouldn't be focussing on Will. She should be worrying about Four – who it _clearly_ was, no one else had such a purposeful walk – who for some reason had been following her to her classes. But for some reason, she was only curious. Her instinctual mind told her that he wasn't a threat – that if he were going to hurt her, he had had too many opportunities to do so already. Especially after the way she spoke to him last week. Although her thoughts were screaming for her to run like the school's blasted fire alarm. (Tris hated that alarm. It ran too loud that you got a constant ringing in your ears for hours later, making it impossible to concentrate on what she was learning – well, if it had been a practice drill. They were yet to have a proper fire in the school building).

She had already considered so many things she could do. Her favourite was to go hide in the girl's bathroom for the whole of next hour, but that would mean skipping physics, her favourite subject. Also, her dad would get a call at his work saying she hadn't turned up to work. And her dad had enough on his plate right now.

In two weeks, it would be the anniversary of her mother's death. Her dad always foud this time of the year because of that, which Tris knew was understandable. But if there was one thing worse than her mother's death, was the way her father reacted every year. Each time he got closer and closer to just giving in – and each time Tris would cry silently in her bed, begging for it to be over. Normally, she didn't see her dad – he went out as soon as she and Caleb got home from school. The first year it had happened, Caleb had told Tris to stay home while he went and made sure their dad wasn't drinking. Caleb had only been seven – thank God their dad hadn't done it as soon as their mum had died, they would have been much younger – and he shouldn't have been wondering around the city on his own.

Tris had been six. It made sense that those times were when she cried the most.

At least Tris and Caleb knew where their dad went, now. Before they had they had always feared that he was at a local gas station, drinking his way through the liquor. Tris's over-reactive imagination at the time did not provide comfort for the young girl.

However, this year it was worse. So much worse. Her dad had been having a really rough time at work, facing the prospect of being 'let go' – as their dad had phrased it. Bless him, he was still trying to make everything easier for his children despite what he was going through.

The other option that Tris had to get rid of Four was just to _not_ get rid of him. Although the idea seemed mildly absurd to her she decided that maybe she should just get to class. Ignore the eighteen year-old that had turned into her shadow. Besides, what was Four to gain from following her? Did he actually see it as walking her to class? Had he not let go from when he asked her out?

 _Did he ask me out?_ Tris wondered. _Is asking me to meet up outside of school actually asking me out on a date – or was it something else? He might have needed homework help, for all I know._

This was why she didn't date. It was all too confusing – the who should call who, or the stupid waiting period that she had discovered existed when wanting to text your boyfriend. She didn't really get what that was all about. If you want to text someone, why not just do it? It seemed awfully impractical to wait for the sake of not seeming needy.

She also didn't date because no-one wanted to date her. So it was just as well that she didn't understand the complexities of modern day romance, otherwise she would have been terribly lonely.

She was thinking too much.

 _I could confront him._

A minute after that thought crossed her mind she immediately crossed it out. It might just be the case that she only really had a lucky escape the last time she spoke so harshly to him. She didn't want to leave room for opportunity to make her life hell.

 _More hell than it already is._

So what if it became a thing? If Four wanted to keep following her – was he acting as a bodyguard now or something? Or was this Edward Cullen style following? - it shouldn't bother her if she just ignored her. If he decided to speak to her she could obviously make sure he got the message that she didn't want to have anything to do with him. Like last time.

As she was caught up in her thoughts, she didn't notice Drew walking in her direction. A harsh shove sent her flying into the nearby locker, her schoolbag making a loud _bang_ as the heavy books inside collided with the metal doors. Grunting in annoyance, she began to push herself off the locker, but was met with a warm hand grasping around her arm and helping her.

Looking up to see who was helping her she was met with the deep blue eyes that had haunted her thoughts since last week. Groaning, she pulled her arm away and took a step away.

"Are you okay?" He asked her. "I could walk you to class, if you like."

"I'm good, thanks," She replied. It wasn't difficult to see that she was a little shaken, but what was she supposed to do? Actually _consent_ to him walking her to class?

Her hair fell over her face as she looked down at the floor. This was the part where she waited patiently for him to go before she could start walking by herself. She was already incredibly late for class and the teacher probably had already taken the register by now. Great. But if she was already very late, what did a couple minutes more matter? Especially if those couple of minutes were spent purposefully _not_ walking with Four.

He wasn't moving. He was just staring at her, curiously, his heavy eyebrows furrowed in deep thought.

"You know if we're headed the same way -" He began, but was soon cut off.

" _Fine."_ Tris said.

And that was that.

Much to her surprise, Four picked her up from class, too. He had been waiting outside her physics classroom long after the bell rang – her teacher decided to talk to her sternly about how she was very late today – and they walked together in silence to her next class. He didn't comment on anything, nor make any snide remarks like she had expected him to. It was peaceful, but very weird. Tris didn't want to get used to it, and was glad she wouldn't have to when Will came back.

Thank _god_ they didn't eat lunch together. Tris didn't know how well she would have coped if they had actually sat together somewhere. Did he even eat lunch? Every time Tris had passed him at lunch he was empty-handed, sitting on the bleachers by himself. It must be lonely, Tris acknowledged, but it wasn't her place to say anything. Not that she wanted to, anyway. She and Will were fine on their own, thank you very much.

But Will wasn't here today and she was completely alone.

Why was he walking with her? Did he have a game plan of spending so much time with her that she actually _couldn't_ say no to him? Wasn't that non-consensual?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the bell. She hated this part of the day – when her lunch break got cut off by having more classes. Honestly, a while ago she didn't think lunches should be longer. But then, a while ago she didn't know Will. The only person she had associated herself was Peter and his friends, but they had quickly been over. So lunches really weren't that enjoyable, especially when she was by herself.

Or worse: when she wasn't by herself.

The next day came and went without a hitch. Will was back, much to Tris's relief. Although, it was short lived – because as soon as Tris got home... it was entirely different.

There was alcohol in her house. The musky, putrid smell was taunting her senses – she had learned from a young age how to identify that smell and that it meant to stay out of the way. But she hadn't come across it in her home for so long, and now that it was filling her nostrils she couldn't help but feel slightly sickened by it.

When she had first started dating Peter, he had invited her to a party he was having. Tris had known from the get-go that this was going to be a _proper_ party, with dancing and music and _alcohol._ It was kind of stupid, when they were so young. She knew they were only trying to be older than they were, but there was still a little fear stoked in her that just wouldn't diminish. It was stupid, but she had always had the fear that she would turn out as her father did for a while.

She hadn't drank at all, for her father's sake.

But now, as she entered the kitchen the whole room was filled with the smell of beer. What the hell was going on?

She was alone in the room. The oven wasn't on, the cupboards remained untouched as usual and the radio wasn't even plugged in. But there was open beers on the table – how did that add up? She was terrified, scared out of her wits that her dad had relapsed. He couldn't have, though, could he? He had _promised_ his children that he wouldn't. Furthermore, after a binge drink one night he had found himself one step closer to being with his wife than he should. Tris and Caleb had called an ambulance, and they managed to help him out. But it had been close – so close that Tris hadn't been able to go to school the next day as she was crying too much at the thought of letting go of her dad.

That had actually been the day that her dad had vowed to stop drinking. When the doctors had warned him that one more night like the last and he would end up drinking himself to death he had stopped entirely. Instead of school the next day they had had a clean out of the whole house. There had been no alcohol in sight since then.

Swallowing the lump that was forming in her throat through panic Tris forced herself to remain calm. This couldn't have been her dad.

Could it?

 _Arg, I am so sorry for the large gap since the last update! I had to do this huge added-value unit for history that counted for a lot of my overall grade, as well as big maths & psychology tests! Screw school!_

 _So this chapter went a bit deeper into the whole drinking thing, I don't know if that's a trigger or not but I put a warning at the top anyway. What did you think of the first bit? With the whole song thing? I wasn't too sure, but as you can probably guess I was listening to that song and felt in a particularly down mood... so I wrote it! And what about Fourtris? Anyone else shipping them like crazy already?!_

 _Sorry again for the late update, I swear the next one will be up sooner than later!_


End file.
